Chapter Text
Even with the poisoning incident was resolved, Wriothesley did not feel a sense of ease.
Two days ago, Sigewinne had booked a special visit with the tailor for new clothes. She also made sure he promised to attend the Wintertide Charity Ball at the Palais Mermonia after working hard on sewing three boxes of plush toys for the auction.
“Monsieur Neuvillette is looking forward to it,” She said and clapped her tiny hands as she undid the ribbons of the clothing boxes that were sent to the Fortress, “I knew you would look good in white and gold too.”
He listened to her chatter and watched her take out each piece of his new clothes, praising the workmanship and insisting how fun it would be now that he was willing to go to a party hosted by Neuvillette.
His uneasiness continued till Wintertide morning. The cold shower did not help, and Sigewinne’s volunteering to help him dress bothered him even more.
At least, she was agreeable to him traveling on his own to the surface. It’s been a while since Wriothesley shown his face in such significant public events, and the looks thrown his way, and a few nobles coming in his direction upon his entry to the Palais Mermonia ballroom made him nearly turn his heel to the second floor’s offices but he managed to escape to one empty terrace itself.
However, it did not stay empty for long.
The scrape of a well-heeled shoe made him turn around.
“You are not fond of parties?”
Neuvillette joined the Duke on the terrace, moving to stand beside him. The slight smile on his face seemed to betray the thoughts in his mind. He took a deep breath as if to fortify his heart against something, and waited for Wriothesley to respond.
“I like the drinks. The food is great. But the dancing, not that much,” Wriothesley replied, pleasant, put-together, no hair out of place, and with a wry smile plastered on his face. His jaw clenched slightly as if remembering something distasteful, but it passed fast, and his eyes crinkled up in a smile towards the Iudex.
“Are you fond of parties, Monsieur Neuvillette?”
“I find them fascinating,” Neuvillette turned to regard the Duke, his eyes bright. “Also, I’m quite pleased by the turnout tonight. The guests are delighted, and the Melusines are having a good time, too.”
He glanced at the crowd through the glass panels of the terrace doors before smiling at Wriothesley, “About your question, I daresay I am fond of parties if they make people happy. Is it not the reason why humans celebrate in the first place?”
Neuvillette smiled again, seemingly as if waiting for Wriothesley to reply.
The Duke merely returned the smile with an offbeat glance at the darkened gardens below the terrace before he lifted his wine glass.
“And to the people’s happiness then, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Caught by surprise, Neuvillette raised his goblet, his eyes blinking slowly, “Ah, yes, to the people’s happiness.”
He took a short sip of his wine before noticing that Wriothesley did not drink.
“Is the beverage not to your liking, Your Grace?”
The Duke shook his head, “The wine is excellent, Monsieur. Your sommelier certainly know their stuff. But I prefer to keep my wits around me tonight. At least.”
“Shall I get you some water then? I do have a collection of springwater in my office.”
Neuvillette offered, his tone sincere, his gaze earnest.
Wriothesley felt slightly strange, awkward even. The conversation continued despite the fact that he thought that the Iudex would move away after their exchange, but Neuvillette had not budged a single inch and even asked if he would like to drink something else.
Wriothesley tugged his mouth into another smile, which he thought he probably looked like an idiot with the whole lop-sided grin. He wondered where Sigewinne was, and even if he’d find her, she’d probably leave him be. Or tell him to dance with the Chief Justice. Somehow, he found some gratitude for the Iudex’s calm and quiet presence, and that kept away the simpering men and women eager to speak with the Duke for bragging rights.
Neuvillette, on the other hand, appeared all gracious and hospitable, though Wriothesley, being quite the capable observer of social situations, noticed that the Iudex did keep a distance between them even as amiable as he portrayed himself to be.
Lost in his thoughts, Wriothesley suddenly remembered Neuvillette’s offer. He nodded his head. Those ardent lilac eyes seemed to have bewitched him into agreement. There was no other explanation for him saying yes to partake in drinking water, and together with the Iudex alone in his office while everyone else was still at the ball.
“Your Grace? Shall we go?” Neuvillette’s eyes seemed to light up on seeing Wriothesley’s reaction, “We will take the other stairway from the terrace. This way, we will not disturb the ongoings of the ball.”
How exactly did I land in this situation?
Wriothesley sighed inwardly, recalling his conversation with Sigewinne the night before—about attending the Wintertide Ball, about his clothes, about how to behave, about having to dance with someone, about trying to be nice to the Iudex or offering to go on a second date with him.
At least one item was ticked off this list, or two for that matter. As for the matter of the second date, Wriothesley was not even sure if the little outing in the rain to eat conch madeleines was supposed to be a first date. But he supposed he could try to have a meaningful second date.
“Of course. Let us leave,” Wriothesley replied, “I will follow you. Lead the way.”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
This was far from the meaningful second date that Wriothesley had in mind.
The Iudex’s private room attached to his office was a simple but comfortable setting of soft blue couches, shelves filled with glass bottles and goblets of water from all over Teyvat, and lights so dim it reminded Wriothesley of an undersea cave.
They stood by the window, drinking water from a set of goblets Neuvillette was gifted a century ago by a certain Sumerian noble, watching the swirling lights from the ballroom above splay and reflect on the waterways below and not saying a word to each other.
In fact, they had been standing for such a long time, Wriothesley was starting to feel a little tight around his calves. Neuvillette seemed to notice the Duke fidgeting just barely, and promptly, like a well-trained host, urged them to take a seat on the couch.
And as Wriothesley sat, he figured the Iudex would take the chair adjacent to the couch, but no, Neuvillette placed himself right next to Wriothesley. And as he did, he put his goblet of water on the glass-topped table before him, and turned to regard the Duke.
“Wriothesley.”
Ah, Neuvillette remembered the last-name basis.
Wriothesley remained silent, and the only thing he did, or tried to do was to will a smile on his face and to his eyes.
“I must thank you for taking time to sew those toys. You’re very good at it.”
The Iudex was all warm and pleasant. He sat very close, their knees almost touching through fineries they wore. It was almost as if he had been practicing his manners very conscientiously for this very moment yet the hesitancy in his actions told a different story.
The Duke felt again, that strange pull in his heart, the odd vexation that weighed in a corner and refused to let go. That day they walked in the rain to get conch madeleines, and the way Neuvillette had placed his hand on Wriothesley’s arm to step away from a puddle; the way the Iudex laughed as he ate the pastry and had a cup of tea with the Duke in that secluded cafe far away from the busy streets of the central Court.
Perhaps in that moment in that time, Wriothesley became much too aware of the differences between them, and the obstacles that remain yet unseen for a relationship to flourish. His old ghosts, especially, a skeleton or two he refused to let wither. A relationship that began with guilt will not end up well.
But it was a lost cause. Despite the conflict in his mind and the desire in his heart, Wriothesley felt a grin pull at his lips.
He set his goblet down, next to Neuvillette’s and leaned back, letting his head rest on the wooden back of the couch, slowly forming the words he wanted to say to the Iudex:
“I had fun making those toys, Neuvillette. It reminded me of some happy times as a kid.”
Neuvillette lowered his head, and looked at his hands. His knuckles were white from the tight clasp. He must be more nervous than he thought. His mind wandered back to the day in the rain, the crisp fluffy madeleine the Duke handed to him, and how awkward his wet heels were because he could not avoid the next puddle they came across.
What should he say next? Ask about those times? Ask about his childhood? His favorite toy? Or just apologize?
He felt slightly light-headed and reached for his goblet of water, only to have his hand grasped and pulled towards the Duke. Bewildered, Neuvillette looked down at Wriothesley’s black-gloved hand clasped over his.
“Wriothesley?”
Wriothesley had sat so close that he could almost smell him, a scent memorable from that day in the rain, but now it was more distinctively smoky and deep. Neuvillette was about to open his mouth again, to continue anything that came into his mind, to apologize.
A relationship that start from guilt will never end well.
“I have a question for you, Neuvillette.”
Wriothesley’s eyes darkened.
“You should ask then,” Neuvillette said. His lilac gaze seem cautious, yet the tilt of his head, the hopefulness in the way he watched Wriothesley. Yet he tried to keep his voice even and calm. “I’ll provide an answer, if I have the answer.”
Wriothesley pursed his lips briefly and lowered his eyes before meeting the Iudex’s gaze.
“If you’re amenable, Neuvillette, I would enjoy becoming friends with you. Would you wish to be friends with me?”
The Iudex appeared to let out a brief sigh, as if half of his worries dissipated and replaced by a pleasant, still surprised look, his eyes warm with both relief and understanding.
“If you would call me a friend, Wriothesley, I would gladly be yours.”
The Duke half-smiled, and reached for the two goblets of water on the table. As he handed Neuvillette’s goblet back to him, he lifted his own.
“Then, to friends, Neuvillette.”
Neuvillette took his goblet from Wriothesley, suppressing a slight startle as the Duke’s fingertips trailed against his, the warmth barely lingering on the silver stem of the goblet. There was another question on his mind now, not exactly a question but something he wanted to do, to say ever since that day Wriothesley sewed the tail back onto the otter.
“Wriothesley.”
Neuvillette sat the goblet on the table once more, and he stood, albeit reluctantly.
“I have a gift for you. It is Wintertide after all. People do give others gifts, yes?”
Wriothesley nodded, echoing what Neuvillette said, “They do. Parents, friends, neighbors, even a stranger would provide for another on this day.”
As he spoke, the Duke’s thoughts wandered back to a particularly cold Wintertide night where he was given kindness, and a woolen scarf that now sat in a box in his bedroom. He wondered what the Iudex had in mind.
A fancy medal? A hand-signed certificate?
Maybe he’ll get a bottle of water.
Instead, all his guesses were wrong and there was no certificate nor bottle of water. What was placed into his hands was a small stuffed toy shark, sewn with great care, its eyes slanted and blue, and with jagged sharp teeth that was reminiscent of a Melusine’s indulgent sticker.
“This is for you.” Neuvillette sat down again, clasping his fingers together, “I’m afraid my sewing skills are not as good as yours. You might find some terrible stitching but I hope you will like this.”
Wriothesley looked at the small shark in his cupped hands, at the ways the eyes glared up at him, and the peculiar lop-sided toothy grin plastered on its felt mouth. Why did he have a bizarre feeling that whoever guided Neuvillette in sewing this plush was a particular Melusine he knew very well?
“The stitches are well-done, Neuvillette. You think too less of your own skill,” Wriothesley replied, holding up the shark and chuckling at the way the tail was attached, tilted to a side just like the black-grey tufts of his hair. “I like his smile. Looks like me, doesn’t it?”
Wriothesley remarked, turning the plush to face Neuvillette, and he grinned for emphasis, “Yes?”
Neuvillette could not but sigh into a quiet laugh, “You’re right. I was thinking of you when I sewed the toy.”
Ah, he thought about me.
Indeed, for one moment, Wriothesley contemplated doing something more but instead, he sat where he was and placed the toy shark into the deep pocket of his coat. He had asked for friendship, and the Iudex had accepted it with open affection.
Neuvillette watched Wriothesley put away the toy, and he gathered his composure again, wondering if he overstepped. For one reckless moment, the Iudex harbored a little wistful thought in his head but he locked that away.
So he only nodded again, his lilac eyes longing, his gaze steady fixed upon the man whom he realized had grown just a little taller than he was, and at the grey strands shot in that black hair before Neuvillette realized how fast the passage of time was.
I should had told him.
‘It’s never too late,’ Sigewinne had said, ‘He likes you, Monsieur Neuvillette. But His Grace has always been a stubborn person right from the start. Give him time.’
Neuvillette agreed. Time was on his side, but not on Wriothesley’s. But friendship was a start, and he was glad. There could be time to do more despite the fate of Fontaine lingering over their heads and necks. His heart ached at the thought but now his plans might proceed more smoothly with the Duke by his side.
I must not let my desperation show , Neuvillette thought as he rose from the couch, and held out his hand to Wriothesley.
“Shall we return to the ballroom, Wriothesley? We have taken a long enough break, and we should be there to host the charity auction together. Not that you have an obligation…”
Neuvillette trailed off in spite of himself, but Wriothesley stood, and clasped the Iudex’s hand.
“I do not have an obligation but I have promised you, Neuvillette, and I’ll stand by it.”
Wriothesley’s hand was warm, and big.
Something trembled within Neuvillette, and his lips parted into a soft smile as his fingers relaxed in Wriothesley’s hand, every piece of his heart falling into place, and no longer scattered.
“We shall go then. They will be expecting us.”
- fin